His Favorite Christmas Story
by TheGrumpyGamer230
Summary: One Christmas Eve, a traveling man dances with a beautiful woman, with whom he seemingly falls in love, but forgets to ask her name. Throughout his travels he tells people about this woman and the night he'll never forget. Based on the Capital Lights song "His Favorite Christmas Story".


He stepped into the large ball room, brushing the snow from his shoulders and removing his hat from his head, hanging it on the rack beside the entrance. He adjusted his tie and walked slowly to one of the chairs near the far wall of the room, beginning to look around as he did. His toe tapped to the music being played by the band, echoing throughout the room.

His eyes scanned the room, watching the couples dance, swaying, and gliding across the floor. His gaze quickly locked onto a woman, her hair tied up in very eloquent fashion. She was wearing red lipstick to match her pretty dress, which stood out from the countless others in the entire ballroom. His leg began to bounce and his heart raced as he contemplated whether or not to approach her, _what if she's already got a date?_ , he asked himself, beginning to sweat, butterflies churning in his stomach. He took a breath and stood up, slowly approaching her, wading through the crowd of other dancers, his eyes never breaking contact with her.

"Pardon me, ma'am", he said quietly.

She looked up at him and smiled, "yes?", she asked with a curious expression.

"Could I...um…", he faltered, "would you like to...uh…", he began to blush and loosened his tie.

She giggled slightly and stood up, taking his hand, "I would love to dance", she smiled and led him onto the dance floor where they embraced each other and began to dance.

The music slowed and they began to dance slowly, their eyes gazing into each other's. His rapid anxious breaths began to slow and relax as they danced with each other along the floor. She smiled at him, causing him to blush slightly more, which in turn caused her smile to widen.

As the night deepened, the many other dancers began to depart from the ballroom, "it's getting late", she whispered, her head on his shoulder. It had been the longest dance either of them had ever experienced, silent and intimate, almost romantic.

"Is it?", he asked, calm, his hand around her waist, "I hadn't noticed."

She nodded and pulled away, keeping contact with her arms, "I had better get going, my friends will begin to worry if I stay for too long."

"I understand", he said and let go of her.

She let go as well and gathered her things from the chair she had been sitting in before walking out the door.

 _Her name…,_ he thought, "wait!", he ran after her. He got outside and looked around frantically, "miss!", he yelled through the falling snow, "I...didn't catch your name…", he said sadly, stuffing his hands into his pockets and walking back inside, his shoulders slumped.

He took his hat from the rack and placed it on his head, silently cursing himself, slowly returning to the cold cascading snow.

A couple years later, he sat in a booth in a small diner alone, reading the latest newspaper, and sipping a cup of coffee. The memories of that night rushed through his head as he flipped through the paper, trying to shake them from his mind.

"More coffee, sir?", the waitress asked, breaking him from his thoughts.

"Oh, yes, ma'am, please", he said with a smile.

She started to walk away as a sigh escaped the man, "sir", she turned and said to him, "could you spare a little holiday cheer?", she asked a cheerful tone in her voice. He noticed the gleam in her eye, a spark that ignited his own, "see, today is my favorite day of the year, and you look like a man with quite a bit of stories to tell."

He set the paper down and began to think, "well, there is one story I have in mind", he smiled as he remembered.

"Would you mind if I heard it?", she asked politely.

"Not at all", he smiled and gestured for her to sit down. He adjusted in his seat and folded the paper, setting it to the side and taking a sip of coffee and a deep breath,"this is my favorite Christmas story about a girl with no name, see, I met her up in Delaware in 1937", he started, "she was wearing red lipstick to match her pretty dress, December twenty fourth at a quarter to eleven's when I finally gained the courage to ask her to dance."

The waitress' eyes began to sparkle as she listened to his story, taking in every word and detail, trying to memorize the story she was being told that day.

In his many travels, taking him to city after city, town after town, he shared the story he told to the young waitress. He had told this story so much, in fact, some of the locals in the small towns began to call him the 'Christmas story telling traveling man', a name that stayed with him until age fifty three when he had settled down in a small town in Delaware.

The neighborhood children would gather around his porch every Christmas to listen to his favorite christmas story called 'The Girl with No Name'. They listened as he told the story the same way he a

lways did year after year, they could even start to quote it word for word.

Finally after twenty years, the children he'd told had grown, his friends had moved on and all he had was his memories. He lay on the hospital bed, taking his final breaths, his eyes tired and weak from a life of traveling and stories.

An old nurse, who had began to sit by his side held his hand as his last breaths escaped him, "ma'am", he said to her, his voice weak and shaking, "could you spare a little holiday cheer?", he asked, "I want to hear one last story."

She smiled, "of course", she said softly trying to think of a story she could tell him. Finally her eyes sparked and she began to speak, "I met him up in Delaware in 1937", she started, "though I never caught his name he was a traveling man, December twenty fourth at a quarter till eleven, I'm so glad he got the courage to ask me to dance."

His eyes filled with tears and his hand tightened around her's, "thank you", he whispered, his eyes beginning to close, "I still don't know your name", his voice began to trail.

She leaned down and whispered in his ear and he smiled one last time.


End file.
